


krispy kream for a crispy crime

by rare_cat_meme



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Heartbreak, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Strangers to Lovers, but not related to luren, just at the beginning, radio host renjun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26548030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rare_cat_meme/pseuds/rare_cat_meme
Summary: “You don’t sound like you’re from here,” Renjun notes.“Yeah, I’m from Hong Kong, moved to Seoul after finishing my degree,” Yukhei grins, “what about you? Besides crying on sidewalks outside of the club and accepting suspicious donuts from strangers, what fills the rest of your time?”or Renjun meets Yukhei twice by chance and once by fate.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 24
Kudos: 162





	krispy kream for a crispy crime

**Author's Note:**

> pls don't kill me
> 
> also if u wanna be extra sad for the first 1k of this play renjun's fool's cover

_“That little motherfucker,”_ Jaemin spits angrily, eyes full of venom. Renjun hums in agreement, bringing the bottle of beer to his lips. It tastes like piss, he hates beer, but anything is better than thinking about _him._

They’re sitting outside the 7/11 around the corner of Renjun’s apartment. It’s just past 10pm but Jaemin would never let him wallow by himself, even if he doesn’t want to talk about it. The thought makes a couple tears spill.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jaemin says soothingly, dropping down to crouch next to Renjun on the sidewalk, an arm enveloping him. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I know,” Renjun croaks, voice weak and throat tired, “God, I fucking know, but it stings like a bitch.” The arm on his back rubs him in solidarity. Jaemin hums.

It’s raining lightly, the street is empty and illuminated by the neon signs of the different shops. Renjun takes another drink from the beer, not even frowning at the flavour. 7 months, _7 fucking months_ wasted. His blood boils, some memories spilling into his brain that once were splashes of happiness but now are only reminders that poncture his heart like a dagger.

“ _I just-,_ ” he stops, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, “Was any of it real? Did I fall for all of it like a fucking clown?” His tears mix with the rain on the ground. He can see his own reflection on the dirty puddles, he looks wrecked.

“Well, we will never know,” Jaemin supplies, a dash of sadness in his tone. “But it’s not your fault, you know, being _a decent fucking person._ ” Renjun nods but there is no enthusiasm. 

Renjun sighs, laying his head on Jaemin’s shoulder. They don’t speak for a while, they don’t need to. Renjun is grateful for it, he hates feeling sad, especially when he’s been lied to like this. It’s a low he wishes no one. 

He gets up when his knees start to hurt.

“Let’s go back,” he says curtly. Jaemin nods.

“Do you want me to stay the night?”

Renjun nods pleadingly.

Lying in bed, he stares at the ceiling, Jaemin spooning him from behind, snoring loudly. It’s been a couple of hours but he can’t sleep. He’s been crying silently for the past fifteen minutes, heart aching and a void feeling in his chest. _Why did I trust you so blindly?_

☂

A couple of days pass, Renjun carries on life as if nothing has changed. No one seems to notice. Except Kun, of fucking course.

Renjun has worked at WYKH 484 for about a year and a half now. They took him in as a freshly graduated broadcast student with so much faith, he was almost suspicious of their intentions. But it turned out to be okay, they really needed another host that could cater to both Korean and Chinese audiences, as well as someone in touch with the new trends and current events, who could bring new younger listeners. Renjun fits right in with the crew, they all think he’s a baby - which in industry terms is definitely true - but they respect him as an equal and let him have his own space in the station. He has developed an audience, which has come to grow every few months. They are very active, asking for advice, suggesting music or simply wanting to participate in the debates. Renjun is grateful for it all, he never expected to have so many eyes on him and his words, but he’s happy to give it his best.

Kun, the most popular host, has taken a special liking towards Renjun since the start. He’s very in tune with the energies and emotions in the workplace. So, it’s no surprise that as soon as he enters the studio of the radio station, he’s clocked like a cat trying to steal food from their owner’s plate.

“New hair?” he asks innocently, but his eyes betray him. Renjun hides his hair dye stained hands.

“Yeah, just wanted something different.”

The light blond was a reminder too strong. He met _him_ with that color. _‘You look so good blond’. ‘My blondie’._ _I'm not yours. Not anymore._ He didn’t think about it twice, running to the store and grabbing the first box of dark brown he could find. Maybe it was the hair dying fumes, or regaining some sense of identity, but when Renjun first looked at himself in the mirror after washing off the dye, a bit of the void disappeared.

Kun doesn’t ask anything else, respecting Renjun’s space and probably aware of the _‘changing hair is cheap therapy’_. 

The work day goes as normal as possible, the radio shows go smoothly, Renjun does some paperwork quietly in his desk, hoping no one gets too upset when his playlists for the next two sessions are filled with angry or angsty songs.

At lunchtime him and Kun eat together, as per usual. The silence is comfortable, Renjun is not quite in the state of mind to carry a normal conversation. Kun pushes a Tupperware of sweet pastries towards him as soon as they finish the meal. Renjun looks up at him, confused

"Ah, I'm just craving something sugary today," he says nonchalant, scratching his head, "but I don't want to eat alone, or I'll eat too much."

Very suspicious, but Renjun doesn't say anything. Bite after bite, easing the hurt, his heart feels a little lighter.

☂

Jaemin checks in frequently for the first few days, ending up barging his way into Renjun’s flat more often than not. It gets almost suffocating, but he knows it’s out of love. Renjun doesn’t like talking about his problems, and if they involve emotions and feelings even worse. He knows he shouldn’t do it, but he’s a bit of an emotionally stunted person, brain too logical to properly put out his feelings and certainly too objective to share them with anyone else. Love is in action, he always thinks. But Jaemin is not like that, he’s loud and proud, constantly showering his favourite people with confessions, compliments and teasing. He also reads Renjun too well and refuses to let him live in his head, not allowing him to sit on bad thoughts for too long.

He sits in the shower for a while, letting the hot water fall on his back rhythmically. Focusing on a point in the tiles, his mind wonders.

_"Your skin is so soft, like feathers," he said, fingertips running through Renjun's naked back. He giggled, hiding his face in His neck._

_"It's just moisturizer," Renjun answered, too shy to be cheeky._

_"Nonsense, I'm just dating an angel."_

Frustration builds up in his gut. Flashes of red and black and dots of white pass through his vision as the anger spills out. He punches the tile in front of him, screaming out in pain. 

There's rushed footsteps out of the bathroom and a harsh knock on the door.

"Renjun?" Jaemin's muffled voice sounds off.

"M' fine," he answers, voice cracking, unable to hide the tears.

Jaemin enters the bathroom either way. He finds Renjun crouched on the shower box, knuckles bright red and water still running. He doesn't say anything, just comes closer to the shower and crouches down to Renjun's level.

" _It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fucking-,"_ he says, voice getting more and more quiet. A broken sob erupts from his chest.

They don’t talk, Jaemin simply ushers him out, wraps him in a towel and makes him lie down in bed. Renjun sniffles for a few minutes, ending up feeling stupid for lying naked and crying like an overgrown baby. A clean pair of pajamas is thrown his way and the door shuts close, signalling Jaemin is out of the room. Begrudgingly dressing up, Renjun stares at the full length mirror on his wall and observes his state. His back is hunched, shoulder sagged, his skin looks dry and crusty, his eyes look puffy and have heavy bags under them. He looks away, pissed at the world and walks out the room to meet Jaemin in the living room.

“Feeling better?” he asks, passing Renjun a bowl of some sort of soup. It smells delicious.

“Yeah,” he answers, “men ain’t shit.”

Jaemin smiles as Renjun takes a spoonful to his mouth.

“Men ain’t shit.”

☂

Time passes, slowly but surely, and Renjun lives a day at time. It’s not easy, especially because he doesn’t tell anyone besides the people who watched him breakdown. Renjun doesn’t like attention like that, it’s not his deal, he’s here to laugh, maybe make fun, but he doesn’t want anyone’s pity.

It’s a warm friday when the guys convince him to go out. The late spring weather has brought the nice night heat and Jeno, Jaemin and Donghyuck want a wild night, _typical_. It’s clubbing, _obviously_ , and he’s not allowed out if he hasn't got at least three buttons undone and his pants must outline enough ass to throw it back on the dance floor.

Seoul’s night life is fun, Renjun loves it, especially when he’s with friends. They dance til their feet hurt, Donghyuck making sure he has at least three fruity cocktails in his system so he can’t feel the exhaustion of the week in his body. It all goes well, he has fun as soon as the drinks kick in, no inhibitions in his system, only adrenaline and the fuel of some heated stares he receives. It’s tempting, the temporary fix of his lonely heart, but he’s not looking for attention. Deep down, he still needs to wipe out the remains of what belonging to someone else felt like, and that takes a while. Still, he appreciates being wanted, the ego boost is kind to his current state of mind, but in the middle of the night he decides to break away from his friends.

Sitting outside the club, Renjun sighs, feeling stupid for wanting to be outside on a Friday night. Who copes by going out? _Dumb bitches._ He watches the drunk people stumble out of the building, most of them chatting happily, some with someone in tow, a friend, a lover, or a hookup. He feels nauseated, looking at the blurry floor. There’s quite a few drinks in him, his head is spinning, his mind is hazy and he’s pretty sure there are tears in his eyes.

“Hey, are you okay?” a voice startles him. He looks up to find a pretty guy looking at him. Lost for words, he simply nods. The guy sits down next to him. “Hi, I’m Ten, and I’m like, really fucking drunk.”

Renjun stares at him, unsure of what to answer. Ten smiles at him.

“You alone?”

“No, my friends are inside, I just needed some fresh air,” Renjun answers, “I’m Renjun, by the way.”

Ten extends his hand, shaking Renjun’s tightly. 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, words slurred, “my friends are inside as well, I think.” His eyes track the club door, but Renjun thinks he might have zoned out. “You look like shit, what’s up with that?”

He would be offended by the lack of touch, but if Renjun looks off to a drunk stranger it means his off handedness is truly not fooling anyone. He sighs loudly, hanging his head between his knees.

“Going through some shit, thought going out would help, but it really isn’t,” he answers honestly. Silence ensues, and after Renjun deems it enough, he looks up at Ten.

“That’s rough man,” he gets in response, a few short nods and a wistful look into the distance, “whatever it is, I hope it will pass. Time heals.” The words are simple and kind of generic, but Renjun feels his eyes water again at the stranger’s empathy.

The club door suddenly opens, two guys falling out of it in a fit of giggles. They look around distractedly, grinning when they spot Ten.

“There you are! We thought you ran off with someone,” the guy with a sharp jawline and ink black long hair says, and as his eyes fall to Renjun he ‘ohs’ silently. 

“No, I was just tired of the shitty music and Yukhei wanted to go outside,” Ten answers as he rolls his eyes, “I don’t even know where he is-”

“Guanheng!”

Ten’s friend whips his head towards the loud voice, and so does Renjun.

“Xuxi,” Ten says, a dash of playful sternness in his voice, “I thought you were lost.”

A tall guy approaches with a paper bag in hand. His hair is platinum, is the first thing Renjun notices, and then he’s hit with the most handsome face he’s seen in a while. The guy - _Xuxi?_ \- has tan skin, a straight nose with a round end, pointed slightly upwards and leading to thick lips. His eyes are big and bug eyed, partly because of his natural features and partly because his pupils are blown wide from certain substances. There’s a light sheen of sweat in his forehead and cheeks, illuminated by the orange colored street lamps. He waves the paper bag excitedly in front of Ten.

“I got them,” he says, voice deep and a little raspy. Renjun’s gut swirls.

“I didn’t ask,” Ten retorts, making everyone go quiet for a second then erupting into giggles. Renjun’s mouth tugs at the corners, compelled to laugh even if he doesn’t understand. He zones out of their conversation, realizing that he’s not part of it. For a second he wonders what his friends are up to, but he doesn’t dwell on it cause it’s predictable; Jaemin and Donghyuck are definitely on the dancefloor, probably grinding on each other, Jeno is judging them, drink in hand and hip jutted to the side, leaning on one of the club’s tables. The usual. A gentle bump on his shoulder tears him off of his mind.

“Hey,” the same deep voice rings in his ear, “do you want a sweet?”

“What?” Renjun’s brain is spinning. His eyes focus on Ten’s tall, handsome friend, who’s waving a paper bag in his face.

“Sweet, a donut, do you want one? Ten said you were sad, I know sugar helps,” he shrugs.

Common sense says you shouldn’t take anything from strangers, his instinct says especially not when both of them are drunk, but his heart is soft, and the big soft eyes that are staring back at him seem to pour nothing but concern for Renjun’s crouched, fetus shaped, probably crying form on the sidewalk. So he takes it, fuck it, damn right he wants a fucking donut.

“Where did you find donuts at this hour?” he asks as the golden pastry dusted with powdered sugar lands on his hand. One bite is enough to certify that yes, sugar helps.

“Uh,” Xuxi's mouth forms a line, his eyes falling on the floor. He sits down next to Renjun, a donut in his hand as well, as he takes a bite instead of answering. “That’s not important,” he ends up saying, “What’s your name? I’m Yukhei.”

“Renjun. Thanks for the donut.”

Yukhei smiles, cheeks puffing out, full of white powder. He looks ridiculous. Renjun stares at him a beat too long, unsure of how he feels about the current situation. Yukhei goes back to eating his donut, completely disregarding manners and slaughtering the pastry like a starved animal. The muffled music and Yukhei’s friends off tune singing is their soundtrack.

“So,” Yukhei says casually,”Why are you sad?” Renjun raises his brow, contemplating if he should tell him off.

“Why would I tell you?”

“Dunno, might be cathartic, I’m just a stranger,” Yukhei shrugs, pulling another donut out of his bag. How many did he acquire? 

Renjun considers, for a second, as he stares Yukhei up and down hoping his drunk brain provides him a logical answer. Nothing comes out except _‘he’s hot’_. Well, that’s one way to see things.

“What if,” he offers instead, “we do something else?” his tone turns sultry and he makes sure his eyes linger on Yukhei’s lips.

“Sure,” he gets as an answer, “wanna come back to mine?”

The words seem to imply something else but Yukhei’s face looks pure in intentions. He extends a hand to Renjun, who takes it.

☂

Yukhei decides they should walk, claiming his place is too close to waste money on transport plus the night is pretty and the weather is nice, why waste it. Renjun thinks this might be the weirdest hook up he’s ever decided to jump into, but there’s something about the kind smile and the excited puppy energy that is holding his attention like no else had before. Not even _him_. 

The tall street lights are blinking intermittently, resembling the lights at the club, the yellowish light illuminating their way through the city. In the distance Renjun can hear a song he vaguely recognizes. Yukhei seems to be ahead of him, bouncing on his feet and wiggles arms as he mutters what should be the lyrics. _Wait, is he trying to dance?_ It takes a second for Renjun to fully comprehend what’s happening, but when he does he ends up doubling over himself, tears streaming down his face as he laughs loudly. The song playing is Justin Bierber’s _Sorry_ and Yukhei is on his fours on the pavement, crawling like the girls in the music video as he sings off tune, shooting Renjun a wink and a grin.

Following behind, Renjun watches amused and endeared by the absolute shamelessness. Eventually Yukhei gets back up again, wiping his hands on his trousers and taking out another donut from his pocket. _How many fucking donuts does he have?_

“So, what’s your story?” Renjun asks, dying to uncover a bit more Yukhei.

“Me,” he asks back, mouth full of powdered sugar, “well, I work as a copywriter and translator for this small company’s marketing department.”

“You don’t sound like you’re from here,” Renjun notes.

“Yeah, I’m from Hong Kong, moved to Seoul after finishing my degree,” Yukhei grins, “what about you? Besides crying on sidewalks outside of the club and accepting suspicious donuts from strangers, what fills the rest of your time?”

Renjun laughs at the bold dig, the tiny bit of inebriation helping him find humor in his troubled broken heart.

“I’m a radio host,” he answers simply.

“Oh cool,” Yukhei gasps excited, “Does that mean I can call you to request songs?”

“Well, _boomer_ ,” Renjun teases, “you can request online nowadays.”

“A, shame, I wanted an excuse to hear your voice...”

His cheeks feel warm as Yukhei’s flirty advances process in his brain. There’s no time to dwell on it as Yukhei stops in front of a door, pulling out his keys. They climb a few sets of stairs and as they reach Yukhei’s apartment, he pauses before opening his door.

“My roommate is probably out but if he’s not, you’ve been warned of his existence.”

Renjun snorts loudly and Yukhei shhs him, laughing right after. They giggle together for a few minutes before entering.

“Hyung?” Yukhei asks, head falling slightly to the side as he waits for an answer. There’s a distant _‘here!’_.

Yukhei takes his hand, guiding them through the hall. Renjun notes it’s fairly decorated, pictures, paintings, some random post-it notes. They pass the kitchen, clean and neat, a few cookbooks tucked in a shelf, Yukhei gives him a glass of water and finally brings them to a spacious living room, littered with bean bags, a beat up but comfy looking couch, a big cabinet with shelves filled with books. There’s a big window that shows a pretty view of the street. Sitting on the large window sill is a man smoking, legs squeezed under his butt. 

“Hey Xuxi,” he says, voice raspy and sweet, a kind smile, “didn’t think you’d be back so early,” his eyes linger on Renjun and he grins, “or that you’d bring company. Hi, I’m Yuta.”

He offers a hand, Renjun takes it, shaking it lightly. Yuta is pretty, with sharp features, a slim build and some funky details that tell everyone he’s cool. His hair is dark and long, a messy ponytail on top of his head, some loose strands framing his face. 

“Renjun, I like your piercings.”

“Thanks,” Yuta giggles, “I’m leaving soon anyway, you guys up for some?” he asks, offering what Renjun realizes is a blunt. He looks at Yukhei for guidance.

“Yeah, sure,” Yukhei answers, sitting next to Yuta, patting the space next him as he takes it. Renjun follows, leaning his back on the side of the window. 

“So, where did you guys meet?” Yuta asks with a cloudy look on his face.

“He offered me a donut outside of the club,” Renjun explains vaguely. Yuta gasps.

“Is that powdered sugar?” he exclaims, finger poking Yukhei’s mouth corner.

“It’s cocaine,” he answers seriously and inhales the smoke.

“Traitor,” Yuta says with a pout, “Can you believe he didn’t bring me one?”

“He ate like three on the way here,” Renjun snickers as Yukhei passes him the blunt.

“I thought you were on my side, I gave you one!” he whines, eyes wide and glossy.

Yuta and Renjun giggle, watching Yukhei pout and grumble about how he is not to be blamed for his drunken acts. Inhaling some smoke and watching it float away as he exhales, Renjun feels relaxed as he watches Yuta and Yukhei bicker. He feels light for the first time in a while, unworried and filled with something new...a desire, but not physical, perhaps a superficial infatuation for Yukhei.

“I’m joking Xuxi,” Yuta says, getting up and rubbing Yukhei’s head affectionately, “alright kiddos, I’m leaving, don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” he finishes with a wink.

The room falls quiet with just the two of them, the blunt passed around until Yukhei smushes the butt, disposing of it in a jar somewhere in the window sill. Renjun watches him, comfortably silent in his spot, feeling cloudy and relaxed. He’s not sure how long it passes when he feels a hand lay on his shoulder, Yukhei’s kind smile closer than before, a sleepy haze in his eyes.

“Hey,” he says, quietly.

Eyes locked, it’s silent again. And then Renjun snorts, and Yukhei follows. They shush each other, continuously giggling until Yukhei has a moment of clarity. He stretches out a hand, pulling Renjun gently from his seat.

“Let’s go.”

☂

Yukhei’s room is small, Renjun notes hazily as he walks in. There’s a dresser in the corner, an insane amount of products stacked neatly on top of it, a full length mirror on the wall, a few posters Renjun can’t make out and a single bed. _I guess we’ll make it work_ , he thinks sleepily. Renjun starts undressing slowly, yawning loudly as the tiredness starts settling in his bones. Yukhei’s hand on his arm makes him pause.

“Hold your horses cowboy,” he giggles, “I’ll give you something comfy to change into.”

Renjun’s face must show how confused he is, because Yukhei pulls his shirt down again, directing Renjun to sit down on the bed. He then goes to the dresser, sorting through something Renjun can’t see, turning around with a victorious smile.

“Here, I’m going to change in the bathroom.”

Renjun watches Yukhei walk out the room, vaguely shocked, holding something that was dropped in his hand. _So, no head?_ his mind supplies and Renjun snorts to himself, checking what Yukhei gave him, finding a shirt and some shorts. Pajamas. _Oh_. He puts them on, stumbling a couple of times, never quite getting the leg holes right. Yukhei walks back in to Renjun trying to put the shirt on backwards. He does help, but only after he laughs as Renjun pouts at him. Finally settled in comfortable clothes, Yukhei tucks Renjun in his bed, proceeding to unroll a yoga mat on the floor, throwing a pillow on top of it, followed by a duvet that Renjun didn’t even notice he had with him. He lays down on his back and stares back at Renjun, offering a smile.

“You good?” Yukhei asks, tucking his arms under his head. Renjun observes the muscle and thinks _‘meaty’_. “Renjun?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Are you sure you don’t wanna sleep on your bed, I can sleep on the flo-” he’s cut off by a yawn. Yukhei smiles.

“You’re my guest, no way.”

Too tired to argue, Renjun pulls the duvet higher, leaving only his head out, lying on his side, facing Yukhei.

“Thank you,” he says after a long beat of silence, “I was having a shitty night, well,” he laughs dryly, “actually a shitty week, but you made it better.”

Yukhei extends his hand, Renjun takes it, holding his fingers.

“Don’t thank me, I didn’t pick you up out of pity,” he answers, a genuinity in his voice that catches Renjun unexpectedly.

“Why did you then?”

“Because you’re cute and sexy and I couldn’t let you slip away without knowing if I would ever see you again.”

_Oh_. Renjun’s cheeks heat up and he sinks deeper into the duvet.

“And for the record, I do wanna sleep with you, but maybe when we’re not hammered and high, and maybe I should take you on a date or two before,” Yukhei continues, not even vaguely embarrassed, “if that’s okay with you, of course.”

Renjun fingers tighten their hold on Yukhei’s. 

“Yes,” he whispers back, “that’s more than okay.”

☂

Renjun wakes up the next morning earlier than he probably should. Yukhei is sound asleep, his arm still outstretched on the floor. He watches for a second, the slow rise and fall of his relaxed breathing, the soft curve of his nose and his pretty eyelashes. Renjun looks away, facing the ceiling as he feels heat pool in his gut, that enamoured feeling returning. His stomach twists, a mix of concern and infatuation. He feels nauseous, getting up and searching for the bathroom.

Leaning over the toilet, Renjun unleashes all of his alcoholic mistakes of the night before. Head on the seat, he breathes heavily, regretting his entire existing, cursing his friends, his boss, _Him_ and-

“Renjun,” there’s a soft touch on his back, “are you okay?”

Yuta is holding him, when he pukes into the toilet again.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Renjun says, embarrased and dizzy, hands tight on the toilet seat.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yuta reassures, a comforting hand on his back, “you couldn’t be worse than Yukhei or his friends,” he jokes.

He keeps his head close to the toilet as his mind clears up. There’s some noise behind him, probably Yuta’s steps leaving the bathroom, fading away and then coming back. When he feels safe enough, Renjun lifts his head up, finding Yuta with a cup of water already in his hand.

“Thank you,” he answers, voice raspy as he sips slowly, spitting it into the toilet with a grimace.

“Happens to the best of us,” Yuta pats his shoulder, “breakfast?”

Renjun nods.

☂

Yukhei somehow doesn’t wake up through the entirety of the time Yuta bangs around in the kitchen, moving fast as he prepares a bunch of stuff, Renjun watching from his spot on the tiny kitchen table, a mug of hot tea in his hands. It’s quite early in the morning, not even 10am yet. There’s some birds chirping outside, but other than that, it’s pretty quiet. They don’t talk, but it’s fine, Renjun simply observes. Yuta seems confident in his actions, moving around faster than Renjun can keep up, still mildly nauseous. Yuta’s still wearing what he was the night before, except there’s some dirt marks on his pants. Renjun’s curiosity runs deeper than he can control it.

“Yuta-ssi,” he gets an acknowledgement hum, “what do you do?”

“I see you’ve noticed,” Yuta chuckles, “I’m a pottery artist. Usually I wouldn’t work so late, but the summer heat makes it impossible to work during the day, so I prefer working at night.”

Setting a plate in front of Renjun, Yuta sits on the other chair, a plate of his own.

“Also, call me hyung,” he finishes with a wink.

“Thank you, _hyung_ ,” Renjun responds, a thankful smile as he digs in, sighing happily as the delicious warm meal settles nicely in his stomach.

“So, what about you, what do you do?” Yuta asks in between bites.

“I work at a radio station, part host, part planner,” he keeps it simple, watching Yuta raise a brow, probably curious, “It’s a chinese radio based in Seoul, you might not know...”

“I think I do!” Yuta’s eyes sparkle lightly, “Do you know Kun?”

“Yes, I work with him.”

“We went to university together, bonded over being foreign,” Yuta smiles, looking at his bowl as if reminiscing some old memories, “great guy, love him to death, we meet up for coffee often.”

Renjun is a little stunned, _the world is small._ They chat easily, Renjun learns a lot about university student Kun, about how cute Yukhei was when he first arrived in Korea and how Yuta and him have a lot in common. The birds outside chirp louder and louder as the morning progresses.

☂

Renjun walks home alone, basking in the mid morning sunlight, watching people in the street go on about their normal lives. He spots a couple walks of shame but strangely he doesn’t relate to them, he’s not as disheveled, or as sleep deprived or even as in need of a warm meal - maybe only a shower. He’s content, Yuta’s business card in his pocket and note left on Yukhei’s bedside table with his number and a request for Yukhei to text him soon.

As he unlocks his phone and the wifi connects with his phone, a waterfall of notifications pours down, a cacophony of blings and dings and with a sigh Renjun finally sits down in his own home. Holy fuck, what a turn of events.

He calls Kun first, letting him know he’s going to request a few days off of work. Then he hops online, booking a train ticket and finally, he calls Jaemin, to ask him to water his plants for the two days he’s going to be away.

As Renjun packs away his bags, he gets a text from an unknown number. It’s Yukhei.

_‘Hey, I really enjoyed our night. Do you wanna meet sometime?’_

Renjun can’t help but smile, out of context anyone would presume they’ve been up to some adult fun the day before. 

**renjun**

thank for last night

yuta is really great

and so are you

yeah, let's meet soon

:)

☂

Busan is pretty in the late spring, early summer, Renjun finds as he lazily strolls down the street Kun told him there was a nice restaurant in. He books two days in a cheap hostel by the beach, a getway to get his head in place after all the ups and downs he keeps getting himself into. His boss finds the request strange, unaccustomed to Renjun asking for time away besides family holidays, but easily grants it with a curious stare as she asks what he’s up to.

(“I’ve never seen Busan during this time of year,” he tells her and she smiles.

“Then you should see Gukje Market, it’s unmissable!”)

It’s just past 7pm, there’s still light outside, but people are en route to their dinner destinations, whether that’s home or out and about. It takes him a second of looking at the same wall until he realizes he’s indeed at the right place, but once Renjun enters the tiny family restaurant, he knows Kun was onto something. A small lady welcomes him in with a comforting smile, offering him a table in a secluded corner, that he gladly takes.

He’s about to order when someone calls his name from the other end of the restaurant. They’re waving.

“Yukhei?”

He waves again, a toothy grin on his lips. Renjun’s heart starts beating faster, a warm feeling growing in his gut as he calls Yukhei over.

“Wanna keep me company?” he asks, and for the first time in a while, he means it.

“I’d be delighted to,” Yukhei answers, a glow in his face that suits him. “So, what are you up to in Busan?”

“Just a mini break, I was feeling a little wiped by life so I put in a holiday request,” Renjun explains, relaxed.

“By yourself?” Yukhei asks, confused.

“Yeah,” Renjun smiles, “I’m great at keeping myself company.”

They laugh together. Yukhei eventually orders and they eat very slowly, occupied with too many conversation topics to pay too much attention to the food. Turns out Yukhei is down in Busan for a small job and is staying overnight as well. He tells Renjun about the article he’s writing for this turism company’s website, and how awfully organized they are but that he at least got to ride their electrical karts for free as a bonus. 

“Do you wanna go out for a drink after this,” Yukhei asks as they pay for their meal, cheeks pink from the spicy food and an easy smile on his lips.

Renjun bites his lip for a second, locking eyes with Yukhei as he carefully chooses his next words.

“What if we don’t drink,” he says slowly, hoping his intentions are clear and that Yukhei has enough space to decline them if he wishes to do so, “how about ice cream?”

They walk outside before he gets an answer and for a brief moment Renjun’s heart aches as he feels the wave of rejection taking over. It’s not that deep, you guys met while you were both drunk, it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fi-

“Ice cream sounds wonderful,” Yukhei grins, “I knew you were sexy, but now you’re like, intellectual _and_ sexy.”

Renjun can’t help but laugh, Yukhei is corny, but he’s a special kind of corny, the shamelessness adds to it, making it impossible not to fall for his charm.

They get ice cream by the beach, an old man with a hand painted ice cream van sells them cheap ice cream cones with a bunch of colorful extra toppings that look pretty. The sand is still warm from the hours of sun earlier in the day, so they both take off their shoes, walking towards the ocean and settling down just before the water.

“So, were you gonna call me or should I just be glad we met on accident?” Yukhei teases, a blob of ice cream smeared on his chin. 

“I was going to ask you on a date, I just needed to clear my head before,” Renjun admits, unable to control himself, he cleans up Yukhei’s chin with his thumb. 

“Oh, nice,” Yukhei answers, eyes glued to Renjun’s ice cream filled thumb. They remain quiet for a few seconds, a weird tension building up between them. 

The sun starts setting, Yukhei’s skin is glowing golden and surrounded by the pretty orange light, his eyes dark and his lips red from the cold ice cream. Renjun’s eyes scan his features slowly, a little lost in the beauty of the man. Yukhei seems to be doing the same, locked on Renjun’s lips, a vague hunger behind his expression.

“Where are you staying?” Yukhei asks, almost a husky whisper.

“A few blocks up,” Renjun answers quickly, “walk me home?”

Yukhei nods and they get up, a bit like last time, but this time they seem more in tune.

☂

The small room is already dark by the time they get in, and Renjun is not playing around this time, slamming Yukhei against the door and crashing their lips together as soon as they enter. They kiss hotly, lips firm and tongues touching, a hunger they didn’t satisfy that first night coming out to be fulfilled. 

“I wanted to kiss you so badly that night,” Renjun admits as he tries to remove Yukhei’s jacket, “You’re so fucking hot.”

Yukhei’s hands grab his ass, pushing their hips together. They both groan.

“Me too baby,” he says, dropping light kisses along Renjun’s neck, “God me too, but I’m glad I waited.”

Renjun pauses for a moment to look at him, an overwhelming feeling overcoming him. Yukhei is looking back at him and it’s like staring at a cliff, except instead of an obvious dangerous fall there’s nothing. Renjun can’t tell what he’s jumping into, but whatever it is, it has a strong hold on his attention and will. Yukhei is an unknown abysm, but nothing about him says danger, he’s simply a bit of mystery.

Renjun is ready to jump.

The hostel single bed is tiny, but they make it work, sheets thrown to the floor, clothes flying out of each other urgently. Renjun’s breathing becomes laboured, adrenaline rushing in his veins, it gets harder to focus on anything other than _Yukhei Yukhei Yukhei._ He takes a moment to admire the toned naked torso when he finally realizes Yukhei is shirtless in his bed. _His bed_ , waiting for _him_. _Damn, he’s so fucking lucky_. Running a hand down the tan skin, Renjun locks eyes with Yukhei, and besides all the desperation and desire, it’s soft and slow, almost shy. Yukhei pulls Renjun down to kiss him, first a gentle touch of lips, reassuring, but then it grows firmer, a tongue swiping his bottom lip, a quick bite to Renjun’s lip to tease him.

Groaning, Renjun pushes Yukhei to lie down again, hands firm on his chest, a dark haze overcoming him.

“Stay,” he almost purrs.

☂

The stars are out and the moon is peaking through the window as Renjun tries to pick his breath up again, a layer of sweat covering his naked body as Yukhei, also naked and with laboured breath lets out a sigh.

“Shit,” Renjun says, under Yukhei, cheeks flushed, a bit hazy from his post orgasm.

“Is that good or should I be worried?” Yukhei rises the upper part of his body, scanning Renjun for any signs of discomfort. Renjun wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him down again, shutting him up a kiss. Yukhei relaxes, letting his hands roam Renjun’s body again, already familiar with some of the dips and curves.

Renjun parts their kiss to look at Yukhei again, this time a relaxed smile on his face, eyes glossy and the front of his fringe slightly damp. 

“Do you think we were meant to meet here again?” he asks, pushing the hairs away from Yukhei’s face, “chance or fate?”

There’s a kiss deposited to his nose.

“If chance let us meet twice, I’m not going to waste more time waiting for fate,” Yukhei says, “I listened to your show by the way, by _chance._ ”

“Huh?” Renjun’s brow furrow.

“I turned up the radio on my way to work and heard your voice,” he explains, turning to lie on his back, tucking his arms under his head. Renjun tries not to ogle his biceps for too long. “All your songs were so sad,” Yukhei pouts, ”and you sounded a bit off.”

Renjun sits up, a little stunned by Yukhei’s sensibility with his emotions.

“I was,” he admits, feeling shy and vulnerable, “I told you, I had a bad week.”

Yukhei offers him a hand and a smile, he doesn’t ask why, he doesn’t demand reasons, he’s simply there. Renjun lies down on top of him, tucking himself under Yukhei’s chin, breathing in his sandalwood scent mixed with sweat. It’s comforting, almost lullying. 

“I was sad cause I got dumped,” Renjun says, voice small, almost whispered,“by text, and he didn’t even bother to tell me he’d been cheating the entire time we were together. Actually, more than sad I was pissed.”

Yukhei pats his arm, dropping a kiss to his forehead. 

“That’s what I was crying about outside of the club,” he continues,”and then you offered me a donut.” He laughs lightly, hiding his face deeper in Yukhei’s neck.

“And here we are,” Yukhei finishes for him, his chuckle shaking Renjun’s body.

“Thank you,” Renjun says, just like he did that night, the feeling similar, except maybe-

“I told you, I had my own selfish reasons to pick you up that night, I’m still glad I did.”

Renjun raises his head to scan Yukhei’s reaction.

“Are you not mad?”

“Why would I?”

They stay silent for a while, Renjun processes what he just heard. They lie back down, Yukhei rubs his thumbs on Renjun’s arm soothingly and they end up falling asleep like that.

☂

The train back up to Seoul is mildly populated, a lot of students probably returning from a few days at home back to university life, a couple of _adulter_ adults in suits and ties, and a few miscellaneous age groups Renjun can’t quite place. It’s late afternoon when he arrives in the city, streets filled with movement and life. He finds Jaemin in his apartment, who claims he was watering his plants just before he arrived.

“So, how was Busan?” he asks as they sit down, a cup of black coffee Renjun despises but drinks anyway because Jaemin made it with love and who is he to deny it?

“It was nice, good weather, good food,” Renjun pauses, a small smile on his lips.

“And?”

“Maybe I met someone...”

Jaemin gasps dramatically.

“Don’t overreact, ” Renjun scolds him, “it was like a reencounter. Remember the last time we went out? When I disappeared for the night?”

“And met the weird donut guy?”

“He wasn’t weird!” he’s quick to defend, Jaemin grins and wiggles his brows, “but yeah, I was eating by myself and he walked into the restaurant.”

“Hm,” Jaemin hums, “sounds like fate wanted you two to meet again...”

 _Yeah,_ Renjun thinks, _fate had a plan._

☂

Yukhei and Renjun meet for the third time not by chance, but by choice. Renjun opens his door to find him with a bag of powdered sugar donuts and the same smile he had on that night outside of the club.

“Hey, do you want a sweet? I heard it’s great to cure sadness,” Yukhei asks, a sly grin.

Renjun grins back, hides a giggle with his hand. Stepping in, Yukhei drops a kiss on his lips.

“I think you’re sweet enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah, what's good  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/ridikunlous)


End file.
